


Should have known better

by ariadne_rose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Deathly Hallows, F/M, Graphic descriptions of violence, Hermione is a BAMF, Slow Burn, Time Travel, Torture, but bear with me, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9615221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadne_rose/pseuds/ariadne_rose
Summary: Not sure yet, very much a wip. Time travel tomione fic that is canon compliant until the end of book 5. So it's a young Hermione that will be travelling back in time.





	1. Department of Mysteries

She should have known better. They were fifth years (almost sixth by now) and Hermione had never regretted following Harry into the darkness as much as she did here,  nine levels deep in the ministry of magic. There was a reason the Unspeakables were the only ones with access. In the dimly lit hall, Hermione could just make out a great pit, carved with stone steps like an amphitheatre, that sank some twenty feet deep into the ministry foundations. She froze, held suddenly in place by the same feeling of uncertainty the Thestrals had given her. A nervousness that made the air feel thin in her lungs, that same swooping thrill of fear that accompanied flying. She didn't like it. The need for the _why_ of it all burned somewhere deep within her, and with every step Harry took away from her she tried to bury the fear beneath that hunger, and the growing certainty that this had to be a trap. If Sirius _was_ here, he was almost certainly dead, and she didn't want to know what Harry would do if they found his godfather's body. She wouldn't think about it. Instead, she surveyed their surroundings. Far below them, at the centre of the pit, she could just make out a stone dais, ancient and crumbling, and on which seemed to stand an archway that appeared more ancient than any man-made structure Hermione had ever seen.  Unsupported by any surrounding wall, the arch was hung with a tattered black veil which, despite the complete stillness of the cold surrounding air, was fluttering very slightly as though it had just been touched. Hermione, suddenly hyper aware of her friends behind her, and their quiet breathing echoing across the chamber, froze on the upper most step. Oblivious, Harry bounded across the room, descending the pit fearlessly. The further he went, the more Hermione’s heart rose in her throat. 

“Who’s there?” Harry called, leaping further and further towards the centre of the pit. 

“Careful!” Hermione’s heart was in her throat as she scrambled to follow him, eyeing the veil that seemed to ripple the closer they came to it. 

“Sirius?” Harry spoke again, quietly this time, as he crept closer and closer to the arch. Hermione was close enough now to see the runes carved into its surface; older and darker than she had ever studied. Suddenly terrified, she tightened her grip on her wand and beckoned to the others to back away. 

'Let's go,' Hermione called, reluctant to get closer to the veil than halfway up the stone steps. “This isn't right, Harry, come on, let's go.”

Harry took a step forward, his wand trembling. 

‘Harry, lets go, OK?’ Said Hermione forcefully, this time and desperate, now, to leave.

'OK,' he said, but did not move. He tilted his head slightly, staring intently into the veil. Too close.

'What are you saying?' Hermione jumped at the loudness of his voice, the echoes of the words resounding all around the stone benches. She started to move towards him with increasing urgency. 

'Nobody's talking, Harry!' Hermione called frantically, all caution now forgotten in her effort to get him away from the fluttering veil. 

'Someone's whispering behind there,' he said, moving out of her reach and continuing to frown at the veil. 'Is that you, Ron?'

'I'm here, mate,' said Ron from the other side of the archway.

'Can't anyone else hear it?' Harry demanded, and Hermione wretchedly looked around at the others standing in the heavy silence of the room. 

'I can hear them too,' breathed Luna, joining them around the side of the archway and gazing at the swaying veil. 'There are people in there!'

“What do you mean, "in there”?" Hermione demanded, jumping down from the bottom step and furious now, terrified and powerless to pull the others away, “there isn't any "in there", it's just an archway, there's no room for anybody to be there. Harry, stop it, come away - ” 

She grabbed his arm and pulled, but he resisted.

“Harry, we are supposed to be here for Sirius!” But her voice sounded high-pitched, and far away - strained - even to her. 

“Sirius,” Harry repeated, still gazing, entranced, at the continuously swaying veil. “Yeah...”

Hermione tugged on Harry’s arm again, trying desperately not to look at the archway. There, in the corner of her eye, Algiz, the divine rune, inverted, branched into a shape she’d never seen. A triangle, split down the middle by the linear tail of Algiz, and a circle enclosed within its bounds. 

Just as she was about to step towards it; study the runes around it, Harry started and stumbled backwards. 

'Let's go,' he said, and Hermione was startled back to the present. 

‘That's what I've been trying to — well, come on, then!' 

She started back around the dais, to where Ginny and Neville were staring, apparently entranced, at the veil too. Without speaking, Hermione took hold of Ginny's arm,

Ron grabbed Neville's, and they marched them firmly back to the lowest stone bench and clambered all the way back up to the door.

'What d'you reckon that arch was?' Harry asked Hermione as they regained the dark circular room.

'I don't know, but whatever it was, it was dangerous,' she said firmly, again inscribing a fiery cross on the door. The symbol burned in her mind. 

Once more, the wall span and became still again. She watched as Harry approached another door at random and pushed. It did not move.

'What's wrong?' the fear returned, and Hermione _hated_ it. Hated the helplessness, the feeling of being trapped. The rune, the arch, the unending rooms. Algiz, inverted.

'It's ... locked ...' said Harry, throwing himself at the door. It didn't budge. 

‘This is it, then, isn't it?' said Ron excitedly, testing Hermione’s patience as he joined Harry in the attempt to force the door open. 'Bound to be!’

They didn’t understand _anything_. 

'Get out of the way!' said Hermione sharply. She pointed her wand at the place where a lock would have been on an ordinary door and cleared her mind. _Alohamora,_ she thought. 

Nothing happened.

“Alohamora.” She incanted. The door stayed shut. 

'Sirius's knife!' said Harry. And even as he pulled it out from inside his robes and slid it into the crack between the door and the wall, Hermione knew it wouldn't make a difference. She watched as he ran it from top to bottom, withdrew it and then flung his shoulder again at the door. It remained as firmly shut as ever. The blade was melted, Hermione noted, even as he tried to open the door.  _Sod that,_ she thought. 

'Right, we're leaving that room,' said Hermione decisively.

'But what if that's the one?' said Ron, staring at it with a mixture of apprehension and longing. She tried not to snap. 

'It can't be, Harry could get through all the doors in his dream,' her voice sounded very far away a she marked the door with another fiery cross.

'You know what could be in there?' said Luna eagerly, as the wall started to spin yet again.

'Something blibbering, no doubt,' Hermione muttered, and felt equally guilty and gratified when Neville gave a nervous little laugh.

The wall slid to a halt and Hermione watched with a feeling of increasing claustrophobia, as Harry pushed the next door open.

“This is it!”

He sounded relieved, and yet, her heart sank further at the beautiful, dancing, diamond-sparkling light that spilled out of the room as he moved through the doorway. Clocks gleamed from every surface, large and small, grandfather and carriage, hanging in spaces between the bookcases or standing on desks ranging the length of the room, so that a busy, relentless ticking filled the place like thousands of minuscule, marching footsteps. The source of the dancing, diamond-bright light was a towering crystal bell jar that stood at the far end of the room.

'This way!'

Hermione’s heart was pumping frantically as she followed Harry down the narrow space between the lines of desks, heading, as he had done in his dream, for the source of the light, the crystal bell jar quite as tall as he was that stood on a desk and appeared to be full of a billowing, glittering wind.

'Oh, look!' said Ginny, as they drew nearer, pointing at the very heart of the bell jar.

Drifting along in the sparkling current inside was a tiny, jewel-bright egg. As it rose in the jar, it cracked open and a hummingbird emerged, which was carried to the very top of the jar, but as it fell on the draught its feathers became bedraggled and damp again, and by the time it had been borne back to the bottom of the jar it had been enclosed once more in its egg.

'Keep going!' said Harry sharply, and Hermione frowned at the tone. She looked around the room to see Ginny pausing to watch the egg's progress back into a bird.

'You dawdled enough by that old arch!' Ginny was saying, but followed him past the bell jar to the only door behind it. Hermione hesitated, moving closer to the bell jar. _Bad things happen to witches and wizards who meddle with time._

This is it,' she heard Harry say again, further away now, 'it's through here — '

She glanced over to them; they had their wands out and she was reminded in that split second of how young they all were. How stupid it had been to come here, even as she crossed the room to join them. Something terrible would happen. Harry, oblivious to her concern, looked back at the door and pushed. It swung open. 

It was exactly as he had described. A room high as a church and full of nothing but towering shelves covered in small, dusty glass orbs. They glimmered dully in the light issuing from more candle-brackets set at intervals along the shelves. Like those in the circular room behind them, their flames were burning blue. The room was very cold.

'You said it was row ninety-seven,' whispered Hermione as Harry edged forward and peered down one of the shadowy aisles. It was utterly silent.  

'Yeah,' breathed Harry, looking up at the end of the closest row. Beneath the branch of blue-glowing candles protruding from it glimmered the silver figure fifty-three.

'We need to go right, I think,' whispered Hermione, swallowing her fear and squinting to the next row. 'Yes... that's fifty-four.. '

'Keep your wands ready,' Harry said softly, and Hermione tightened her grip. 

 


	2. Illumnination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still a retelling of the battle in the Department of Mysteries.. Eh, exposition is important xoxo

Of course it had been a trap. Malfoy, sounding maliciously delighted; taunting Harry, Bellatrix, insane behind her mask, screaming in laughter. Some of the Death Eaters joined her mad cackling, and, under cover of their laughter, Hermione could just barely hear Harry whispering, 'Smash shelves — ‘ She blinked and looked around at the tall shelves. Prophecies lined the aisles as far as she could see. To break them could cause irreparableble harm. It wasn't a terrible plan.

'Dumbledore never told you?' Malfoy repeated. 'Well, this explains why you didn't come earlier, Potter, the Dark Lord wondered why — '

' — when I say now — ‘ suddenly focussed, Hermione listened intently. 

' — you didn't come running when he showed you the place where it was hidden in your dreams. He thought natural curiosity would make you want to hear the exact wording . . .'

'Did he?' she heard Harry say. 

“On Harry’s cue,” she hissed to the others,

 'So he wanted me to come and get it, did he? Why?’

“We smash the shelves. Reducto.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Luna and Ginny nod imperceptibly. 

'Why?' Malfoy still sounded incredulously delighted. 'Because the only people who are permitted to retrieve a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, Potter, are those about whom it was made, as the Dark Lord discovered when he attempted to use others to steal it for him.'

'And why did he want to steal a prophecy about me?'

'About both of you, Potter, about both of you . . . haven't you ever wondered why the Dark Lord tried to kill you as a baby?'

Hermione stared desperately at the back Harry’s head. Was this prophecy the reason Harry's parents had died, the reason he carried his lightning- bolt scar? Was the answer to all of this clutched in his hand?

'Someone made a prophecy about Voldemort and me?' Hermione looked sharply at Lucius Malfoy at Harry’s words. Any second now, and they would have to make a break for it. Harry continued. 'And he's made me come and get it for him? Why couldn't he come and get it himself?'

'Get it himself?' shrieked Bellatrix, over a cackle of mad laughter. Any second. 

“The Dark Lord, walk into the Ministry of Magic, when they are so sweetly ignoring his return? The Dark Lord, reveal himself to the Aurors, when at the moment they are wasting their time on my dear cousin?”

'So, he's got you doing his dirty work for him, has he?' said Harry. 'Like he tried to get Sturgis to steal it — and Bode?'

'Very good, Potter, very good …' said Malfoy slowly. 'But the Dark Lord knows you are not unintell—‘

'NOW!' yelled Harry.

'REDUCTO!' Five curses flew in five different directions and the shelves opposite them exploded as they hit; the towering structure swayed as a hundred glass spheres burst apart, pearly-white figures unfurled into the air and floated there, their voices echoing from who knew what long-dead past amid the torrent of crashing glass and splintered wood now raining down upon the floor — '

'RUN!' Harry yelled, as the shelves swayed precariously and more glass spheres began to fall from above. He seized a handful of Hermione's robes and dragged her forwards, holding one arm over his head as chunks of shelf and shards of glass thundered down upon them. A Death Eater lunged forwards through the cloud of dust and Harry elbowed him hard in the masked face; they were all yelling, there were cries of pain, and thunderous crashes as the shelves collapsed upon themselves, weirdly echoing fragments of the Seers unleashed from their spheres — '

Hermione followed Harry, allowing Ron, Ginny and Luna to sprint past them, their arms over their heads. Hermione cast spell after spell behind them as she ran, cursing darkly as the prophecies rained down on them.   
One struck Harry on the side of the face as they ran, shattering on the floor and hissing musically. She swore again and urged him forwards - 

They were at the end of row ninety-seven; Harry turned right and began to sprint in earnest; Hermione struggled to follow as she dragged Neville with her; straight ahead, the door through which they had come was ajar; she could see the glittering light of the bell jar; she pelted through the doorway, and almost wept as Harry slammed the door behind them — '

'Colloportus!' gasped Hermione and sealed the door. It was a temporary solution, at best. 

'Where — where are the others?' Hermione looked around in horror. She had lost track of Ron, Luna and Ginny, thinking they were ahead of them, that they would be waiting in this room. It was empty. 

'They must have gone the wrong way!' whispered Hermione, terror in her face.

'Listen!' whispered Neville.

Footsteps and shouts echoed from behind the door they had just sealed; Hermione searched for an exit as Harry put his ear close to the door to listen. In the hallway, they could hear Lucius Malfoy roaring, 'Leave Nott, leave him, I say — his injuries will be nothing to the Dark Lord compared to losing that prophecy. Jugson, come back here, we need to organise! We'll split into pairs and search, and don't forget, be gentle with Potter until we've got the prophecy, you can kill the others if necessary — 'Bellatrix, Rodolphus, you take the left; Crabbe, Rabastan, go right — 'Jugson, Dolohov, the door straight ahead — Macnair and Avery, through here — Rookwood, over there — Mulciber, come with me!’

 _Bellatrix,_ Hermione thought. _Rodolphus, Crabbe, Rabastan, Jugson. Dolohov, Macnair, Avery, Rookwood, Mulciber._

'What do we do?' Hermione asked Harry, trembling from head to foot. She wanted to find her friends. She wanted to kill the madmen and women behind the door for making her feel this way. _Weak._

'Well, we don't stand here waiting for them to find us, for a start,' said Harry. 'Let's get away from this door.'

They ran as quietly as they could, past the shimmering bell jar where the tiny egg was hatching and unhatching, towards the exit into the circular hallway at the far end of the room. They were almost there when Hermione felt the sealing charm falter on the door.

'Stand aside!' said a rough voice. 'Alohomora!'

As the door flew open, Harry and Neville dived under desks. Hermione backed towards the end of the room, desperately searching for a hiding place. 

They might've run straight through to the hall,' said the rough voice, growing closer. She dived behind the cabinet nearest to the bell jar, casting a silent disillusionment charm as the Death Eaters strode into the room. 

'Check under the desks,' Malfoy commanded, gesturing to where Harry was hiding.

From her vantage point, peering out between the cracks in the cabinet, Hermione couldn’t see if either Harry or Neville had been discovered. 

“STUPEFY!” Harry’s roar geared her into action. She burst out of the cabinet just as a jet of red light hit the nearest Death Eater; he fell backwards into a grandfather clock and knocked it over; the second Death Eater, however, had leapt aside to avoid Harry's spell and was pointing his own wand at Hermione.

'Avada —‘ She froze, and suddenly Harry was there, and had launched himself across the floor to tackle the Death Eater to the ground. Neville overturned a desk in his anxiety to help; and pointing his wand wildly at the struggling pair, he cried:

'EXPELLIARMUS!'

Both Harry's and the Death Eater's wands flew out of their hands and soared back towards the entrance to the Hall of Prophecy; both scrambled to their feet and charged after them, the Death Eater in front, Harry hot on his heels, and Neville bringing up the rear, plainly horrorstruck by what he had done.

 _ORPUS_ Hermione thought, cursing the ground at a Death Eater’s feet to swallow him. _Bombarda._ Another dived to avoid the explosion cast his way. Glass and stone rained down on the battle as time turners and cabinets were destroyed.

'Get out of the way, Harry!' yelled Neville. Hermione could barely make out Harry on the other side of the chamber as he flung himself out of Neville’s way:

'STUPEFY!'

The jet of red light flew right over the Death Eaters shoulder and hit a glass-fronted

cabinet on the wall full of variously shaped hour-glasses; the cabinet fell to the floor and burst apart, glass flying everywhere, sprang back up on to the wall, fully mended, then fell down again, and shattered — 

Hermione summoned the glass fragments - _Flipendo Tria -_ and they spun towards the nearest Death Eater, a glass hurricane, gathering speed. 

The Death Eater had snatched up his wand, which lay on the floor beside the glittering bell jar, and Hermione ducked out of the way just as the man turned to see an unarmed Harry. The Death Eater’s mask had slipped so that he couldn't see. He ripped it off with his free hand and shouted: 'STUP—'

'STUPEFY!' screamed Hermione, painfully exposed, painfully aware. The jet of red light hit the Death Eater in the middle of his chest: he froze, his arm still raised, his wand fell to the floor with a flatter and he collapsed backwards. Harry stared at the man’s prone form, frozen for a split second as Hermione spun away once more. 

'Accio wand!' cried Hermione. Harry's wand flew from a dark corner into her hand and she threw it to him.

'Thanks,' he said. 'Right, let's get out of — '

'Look out!' said Neville, horrified. Hermione turned too late, to see a green light hurtling towards her; Lucius Malfoy’s unmasked face was distorted in a sick grin, his wand outstretched and pointing in her direction. To her right, Harry and Neville raised their wands again, but too slow, too slow. 

She stepped back stumbled, falling into the bell jar, where the hummingbird still cycled through its hatching and unhatching. She felt nothing, even as the world turned green around her. There was no shattering of glass, no pain of a curse landing, and instead her head sank through the surface of the bell jar as though it were nothing but a soap bubble. She lay still, sprawled on her back on the table, as the now unbound, glittering wind spun around her. 

 _It’s Time,_ she realised, too stunned to be afraid, _Time…_

 _“_ EXPELLIARMUS!” She heard Harry shout, his voice sounding distorted and faint. She turned her head, the world moving in slow motion around her, to see Neville hurling himself in her direction. 

“I’m fine,” she tried to say, but the words chimed like bells in her mouth. She looked down to her hands and saw only a faint outline, a shimmering distortion, spreading. The fear returned. _Terrible things happen to wizards and witches who meddle with time._


	3. Aegis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle of the Department of Mysteries continues, shit goes down. Graphic violence. xoxo

 

“Hermione!” Harry’s face wash ashen. “Hermione. Oh thank God. Are you okay?” 

She looked down to her hands, where only her fingers had a moment ago been translucent. She was right. It was spreading. The glittering wind had formed a glove-like sheen around her forearms - fainter than before, but slowly growing in vine-like tendrils up her arms. She looked around. They were still in the Time Room, and she could hear more footsteps growing louder from the Hall of Prophecy. She met Harry’s eyes, both too late realising that the noise had given away their position.

 “Come on!” Harry gasped, and dragged her to her feet by her robes, careful not to touch the glittering veins running up her arms. They took off for the door that stood ajar at the other end of the room, leading back into the black hallway, and had only run halfway toward it when two more Death Eaters burst through the open door and began sprinting across the black room toward them. Leaning heavily on Harry as they veered left, Hermione burst instead into a small, dark, cluttered office and collapsed as Neville slammed the door behind them.

“Collo —” began Hermione, but before she could complete the spell the door had burst open again and the two Death Eaters had come hurtling inside. With a cry of triumph, both yelled, “IMPEDIMENTA!”

Harry, Hermione, and Neville were all knocked backward off their feet. Neville and Harry were thrown over the desk and disappeared from view, and Hermione smashed into a bookcase, the back of her head catching on the corner behind her. Tiny lights burst in front of her eyes, and for a moment she was too dizzy and bewildered to react.

“WE’VE GOT HIM!” yelled the Death Eater nearest Harry, “IN AN OFFICE OFF —”

“Silencio!” She thought she heard Harry’s voice as she tried desperately to right herself. 

The Death Eater continued to mouth through the hole in his mask, but no sound came out; he was thrust aside by the man behind him.

“Petrificus Totalus!” shouted Harry, casting again as the second Death Eater raised his wand. His arms and legs snapped together and he fell forward, facedown onto the rug, stiff as a board and unable to move at all. Hermione stared at Harry, eyes wide. He was breathing heavily, his hair completely awry, and his glasses askew. Blood ran thickly down one side of his face. She tried to speak. 

“Harry, that was —” 

But the Death Eater Harry had just struck dumb made a sudden slashing movement with his wand from which flew a streak of what looked like purple flame towards her. Time slowed, and she raised her wand to block the spell. Too late. It collided with her forearm and sparked, the magic from the bell jar reacting violently to the Death Eater’s curse. 

She knew she was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance. As if through a haze, she could hear someone screaming - a wretched, animalistic screaming that grew until it seemed unending, all-consuming. 

Beside her, Harry fell to his knees, his green eyes wild with grief and worry. Neville crawled rapidly toward them from under the desk, his wand held up in front of him. She couldn’t see the Death Eaters, couldn’t save them, she was on fire. She needed her wand to stop the pain, end _everything_. And at that point, when death seemed the only way out of the flames that consumed her, she felt something give. Light burst out from her and around her and the pain changed, eased and flowed into her bones. The magic - _old_ magic, rushing through her no longer scorched her lungs as she breathed - it held her together. Barely.  

To her left, Neville gave a howl of pain and she turned sluggishly to see him recoil as the Death Eater kicked him visciously in the face. Blood sprayed from between Neville’s cupped fingers as he clutched his mouth and nose, a shattered wand tilting from his grip. Beside her, Harry twisted around, his own wand held high, and she saw that the Death Eater had ripped off his mask and was pointing his wand directly at them. Antonin Dolohov. She recognized the long, pale, twisted face from the Daily Prophet: the wizard who had murdered the Prewetts.

Dolohov was visibly shaken. With his free hand, he pointed, trembling, from the prophecy still clutched in Harry’s hand, to himself, then angled his wand towards Hermione. Though he could no longer speak, the threat was obvious. _Give me the prophecy, or she’ll bear the punishment._

“Like you won’t kill us all the moment I hand it over anyway!” said Harry.

She could feel his hand on her shoulder, gripping tightly enough to bruise.  
_I’m okay,_ she tried to say. “Ah - ” it came out as a gasp. 

“Whaddever you do, Harry,” said Neville fiercely from under the desk, lowering his hands to show a clearly broken nose and blood pouring down his mouth and chin, “don’d gib it to him!”

Hermione groaned and rolled to one side. Hunched over and muscles straining to stand, she forced herself to one knee. Dolohov’s eyes widened in shock, his wand shaking as he took a step back from her. 

Harry seized his chance: “PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!”

The spell hit Dolohov before he could block it, and he toppled forward across his comrade, both of them rigid as boards and unable to move an inch.

Hermione,” Harry said at once, pulling her to her feet. “Hermione, are you alright?” 

She sagged in his grip. 

“Whaddid he do to her?” said Neville, crawling out from under the desk again to kneel at her other side, blood streaming from his rapidly swelling nose. “I dunno. . . .”

“I’m alright,” she whispered. “I - ” the pain returned and she turned her head, tilting dangerously, to throw up. Blood and vomit splattered across the stone floor. 

“Neville, we’re not far from the exit,” Harry whispered. “We’re right next to that circular room. . . . If we can just get you across it and find the right door before any more Death Eaters come, I’ll bet you can get Hermione up the corridor and into the lift. . . . Then you could find someone. . . . Raise the alarm . . .”

“And whad are you going do do?” said Neville, mopping his bleeding nose with his sleeve and frowning at Harry.

“I’ve got to find the others,” said Harry.

“Well, I’b going do find dem wid you,” said Neville firmly.

“But Hermione —”

“We’ll dake her wid us,” said Neville firmly. “I’ll carry her — you’re bedder at fighding dem dan I ab —”

He stood up and seized one of Hermione’s arms, glared at Harry, who hesitated. 

“We’ll b- ” Hermione’s voice cracked, and she coughed wetly. “We’ll be fine. Neville can support me and I’ll shield us. Harry, where’s my wand?”

He snatched up Hermione’s wand from the floor and handed it to her as Neville kicked aside the broken fragments of his own wand.

“My gran’s going do kill be,” said Neville thickly, blood spattering from his nose as he spoke, “dat was by dad’s old wand. . . .” 

Hermione flexed her grip around her wand, trying to ignore the shimmering spread of the bell jar’s magic across her skin. By now, she could see the glint of it below her collarbones, where her robes had been torn in the fight, and Harry and Neville’s worried stares confirmed that it was not abating. Sharp bolts of pain still ricocheted through her, electric and singing. She flinched at each one, uneasy at the sense of buzzing magic building slowly in her veins. She felt unhinged, as though the bell jar, or Dolohov, or a combination of the two had unleashed something inside of her that could not be contained. 

They crept out of the office and back toward the door into the black hallway, which now seemed completely deserted. They walked a few steps forward, Neville tottering slightly due to Hermione’s weight. The door of the Time Room swung shut behind them, and the walls began to rotate once more. Hermione narrowed her eyes as the world shifted and blurred around her; swaying slightly until the walls stopped moving again. Her fiery crosses had faded from the doors, and yet… there were faint auras around each door, marked with runes and symbols - wardings. She gasped. 

Harry looked at her oddly. “So which way d’you reckon?” He asked, “Hermione?”

She was grinning, ear to ear, beaming with the joy of it.  
“Harry,” she began. “I can see it.”  
Neville and Harry exchanged a concerned look.

“See what?” Harry took a step towards her.  
“The magic,” she whispered, awed. Great, burning tracks where different runes and wards had been made, some ancient magic, and others more recent. She could see the glowing ghosts of her _flagrante_ charmed crosses over each door. 

“There,” she said, pointing to a door to their left. “That’s the one. Don’t ask me how. I just know.” She leaned away from Neville a little to try her weight. “Trust me?” She looked at Harry. “Please?”

But before they could reply, a door to their right sprang open and three Death Eaters sped into the hall, led by Bellatrix Lestrange.

“There they are!” she shrieked.

Stunning Spells shot across the room: Harry smashed his way through the door Hermione had indicated, dragging Neville and Hermione with him, the Death Eaters in close pursuit. 

“Stupefy!” shouted Hermione, leaning heavily on Neville, “Stupefy! Stupefy!” 

But nothing happened — one of the Death Eaters shot their own Stunning Spell at Neville and he collapsed heavily on top of Hermione. She swore darkly, desperately trying to move him to cover. She had never been so terrified. She could still feel her magic, still see the tightly woven wardings of the Department of Mysteries move and settle around them, but her wand was unresponsive. Harry was now the only one left fighting the five Death Eaters, two of whom sent streams of silver light like arrows past them that left craters in the wall behind them. 

Hermione ducked behind a column and tried her best to shield Neville.  
“Run, Harry!” She screamed, dodging a bolt of orange light. He glanced over to where she was hiding. 

“Go!” She yelled, and he ran for it, holding the prophecy high above his head as Bellatrix Lestrange sprinted right at him. The other Death Eaters streaked after them, knocking chairs and tables flying but not daring to bewitch him in case they hurt the prophecy, and Hermione watched him dash through the only door still open, towards the room with the stone archway. Too fast. 

Sparing one apologetic glance to Neville, Hermione took off after Harry, limping as fast as she could towards the open door.  By the time she made it, the whole room was ringing with the Death Eaters’ laughter. 

Harry was flat on his back and winded at the bottom of the amphitheatre as five Death Eaters wound their way slowly down the stairs to gloat. Hermione gasped and crouched behind a step as more Death Eaters emerged through the other doorways and began leaping from bench to bench toward her friend. Harry got to his feet, visibly shaking, the prophecy still glinting, unbroken in his left hand, his wand clutched tightly in his right. He looked brave, if cornered, as he backed away, looking around, trying to keep all the Death Eaters within his sights. The back of his legs hit something solid; he had reached the dais where the archway stood. He climbed backward onto it.

The Death Eaters all halted, gazing at him. Some were panting as hard as he was. One was bleeding badly; Dolohov, freed of the full Body-Bind, was leering, his wand pointing straight at Harry’s face.

“Potter, your race is run,” Hermione recognised Lucius Malfoy as he pulled off his mask. “Now hand me the prophecy like a good boy. . . .”

“Let — let the others go, and I’ll give it to you!” said Harry desperately.

A few of the Death Eaters laughed.

“You are not in a position to bargain, Potter,” said Lucius Malfoy, his pale face flushed with pleasure. “You see, there are ten of us and only one of you . . . or hasn’t Dumbledore ever taught you how to count?”

Hermione’s heart sank. She had to act. “He’s not alone.” She called out. “He’s got me.” 

Harry slumped in sudden defeat. “Hermione - no - go back to Neville. Find Ron and the others!”

“STUPEFY!” Hermione roared, pointing her wand at the nearest Death Eater. An explosion of red light lit up the hall, brighter and more powerful than any she had ever cast. The Death Eater was flung backwards, hitting the stone step behind him with a sickening crunch. Suddenly drained, she swayed, before turning her wand at another. “STUPE-“

One of the largest Death Eaters seized her from behind, pinioning her arms to her sides. Hermione struggled and kicked; while several of the Death Eaters laughed nervously.

“It’s Granger, isn’t it?” sneered Lucius Malfoy. “I think you just _killed_ Nott. With a stunning spell.” The laughter died away. “What _is_ Dumbledore teaching at that school?”

“Granger?” repeated Bellatrix, and a truly evil smile lit her gaunt face. “ _That’s_ not a witches’ name. No..” She cackled madly. “ _I think you’re a_ _mudblood! Oh w_ e’re going to have _so much fun._ ”

Hermione spat in Bellatrix’s direction, screaming profanities and struggling so hard against her captor’s encircling grip that the Death Eater shouted, “Someone Stun it!”

“No, no, no,” said Bellatrix. She looked transported, alive with excitement as she glanced at Harry, then back at Hermione. “No, let’s see how long the mud blood lasts before Potter wants to give us the prophecy —”

“Don’t give it to them Harry!” screamed Hermione, writhing as Bellatrix drew nearer to her. “DON’T!” 

Bellatrix raised her wand. “Crucio!”

Hermione screamed, her legs drawn up to her chest so that the Death Eater holding her was momentarily holding her off the ground. The Death Eater dropped her and she fell to the floor, twitching and screaming in agony.

“That was just a taster!” said Bellatrix, raising her wand so that Hermione’s screams stopped and she lay sobbing at her feet. She turned and gazed up at Harry. “Now, Potter, either give us the prophecy, or watch your little friend die the hard way!”

Hermione felt her magic welling up once again. A great wave of fury washing over her.  
“Don’t,” she croaked. “Harry.” 

Bellatrix turned to look at her, incredulous. 

“The little mud blood wants to play!” She made a slicing motion with her wand, and a deep cut appeared in Hermione’s thigh. Hermione moaned in pain. Again and again, Bellatrix sliced into her, laughing maniacally. Distantly, she could hear Harry screaming. Writhing in pain, and hands slick with her own blood, Hermione felt her hand collide with something wooden on the ground. Her wand. It had fallen out of her grasp when the bigger Death Eater had grabbed her. 

“Enough!” Harry was pleading with his captors. “Please! Take the prophecy! Please let her go!” 

“No!” Bellatrix turned on her fellow Death Eaters. “The _children_ need to learn a _lesson_.” 

Hermione gripped the wand, willing herself to her feet while the madwoman was distracted. She clawed her way up, leaning heavily on the old stone archway beside her. Delirious, she found herself staring at Aegis, just below her hand, where she had gripped the arch to stand.  The strange, inverted rune was brushed with blood _her blood_. And this time in _glowed_ \- the magic inherent to the archway was _blinding_ her _._ To Hermione’s left, Bellatrix was advancing towards Harry, and was obviously oblivious to Hermione’s attempts to rise. The other Death Eaters, watching Harry, were similarly distracted. 

“And as _acting_ _professor,_ I think _Potter,”_ Bellatrix spat, “needs a taste of the Dark Lord’s _teachings. Crucio.”_

Hermione did not have to think; 

“PROTEGO!” She roared, one hand still pressed against the archway.  A white shield - blinding - erupted between Bellatrix and Harry, the strength of the shield, white with heat, forcing the other witch to the ground and curving to form a dome around both Harry and Hermione. Bellatrix screamed in rage and pain as her own curse rebounded to hit her. Malfoy was the first to react, attacking the new shield with dark curse after dark curse. Hermione’s wand shook and groaned, the wood warping and cracking with the strain of the spell as Dolohov and the other Death Eaters joined in. Dark Spells ricocheted across the amphitheatre, igniting with bright white light upon contact with Hermione’s magic. Hermione staggered towards Harry to allow the dome to shrink somewhat. He still had the prophecy clutched in his hand, and he stared at her with a mixture of horror and awe. 

“I don’t know how long I can maintain this,” she whispered, now clutching her wand with both hands. The wood seemed to bend and creak between her fingers, her magic running across the surface in bright white flames until the wood simply fell away. Hermione stared, incredulous, as she dropped the pieces of her wand to stare at her own hands, glowing with power and seamlessly maintaining the shield.

“Hermione,” Harry looked at her in shock. “What - ?” 

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t - ”

Then, high above them, two more doors burst open and five more people sprinted into the room: Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley.

Malfoy turned and raised his wand to defend against the order members, but Tonks had already sent a Stunning Spell right at him. Hermione did not wait to see whether it had made contact, but dropped her shield and pulled Harry off the dais and out of the way.

The Death Eaters were completely distracted by the appearance of the members of the Order, who were now raining spells down upon them as they jumped from step top toward the sunken floor: Through the darting bodies, the flashes of light, and a new wave of dizziness, Hermione could feel Harry pulling her away from the fighting.

“Are you okay?” he yelled, as another spell soared inches over their heads.

“Yes,” said Hermione, trying to pull herself up.

“Hermione - I don’t know what that - ”

The stone floor between them exploded as a spell hit it, leaving a crater right where Hermione’s hand had been seconds before. Both scrambled away from the spot, then a thick arm came out of nowhere, seized Harry around the neck and pulled him upright, so that his toes were barely touching the floor.

“Give it to me,” Hermione could hear him yell over the screaming carnage of battle, “give me the prophecy —”

The Death Eater was choking Harry, and she didn’t have her wand. The man was pressing so tightly on Harry’s windpipe that his eyes were bulging, his face turning red. His fingers clawed at the man’s fist around his throat. 

Sirius was duelling with a Death Eater some ten feet away. Kingsley was fighting two at once; Tonks, still halfway up the tiered seats, was firing spells down at Bellatrix — nobody seemed to realise that Harry was dying. . . . the Death Eater’s free hand was groping toward the hand in which Harry was grasping the prophecy — Hermione didn’t stop to think. She launched herself at the man, pressing one hand into his side. 

“REDUCTO!” She yelled, and his chest exploded. Her curse tore through flesh and bone; the man swayed as a his ribs burst apart, drenching both Harry and Hermione in a spray of blood and sinew. The man relinquished Harry at once with a gurgle and Harry whirled around to face him, wand extended. The Death Eater keeled over backward and his mask slipped off. It was Macnair, Buckbeak’s would-be killer, face frozen in surprise, half of his torso missing in a mess of minced flesh.  
Hermione had borne the brunt of the spray of blood, and she was drenched in it. She could taste it, leaking into the corners of her mouth, bitter and metallic. The smell was all-consuming. She turned away from Macnair’s corpse and looked at Harry, his would-be-killer’s blood mixing with her own across her arms and chest. He caught her eye and they both hesitated. What could either of them say? 

“Come on,” Harry pulled her aside as Sirius and his Death Eater lurched past, duelling so fiercely that their wands were blurs. _None of it made sense._

“Hermione,” he shook her shoulder. “We need to move.” Curses flew overhead, and Harry forced her head down to avoid a flash of orange light that veered too close. There, on the floor, she spotted something shiny and cylindrical spinning across the floor. For a moment, she thought Harry had dropped the prophecy. It was Moody’s glass eye; its owner was lying on his side, bleeding from the head, and his attacker  was now bearing down upon them: Dolohov, his long pale face twisted with glee.

 


	4. The Fall

“Come on,” Harry pulled her aside as Sirius and his Death Eater lurched past, duelling so fiercely that their wands were blurs. _None of it made sense._

“Hermione,” he shook her shoulder. “We need to move.” Curses flew overhead, and Harry forced her head down to avoid a flash of orange light that veered too close. There, on the floor, she spotted something shiny and cylindrical spinning across the floor. For a moment, she thought Harry had dropped the prophecy. It was Moody’s glass eye; its owner was lying on his side, bleeding from the head, and his attacker was now bearing down upon them: Dolohov, his long pale face twisted with glee. He made the same slashing movement with his wand that he had used on Hermione just as Harry yelled, “Protego!”

 

Dolohov raised his wand again. “Accio Proph —”

Sirius hurtled out of nowhere, rammed Dolohov with his shoulder, and sent him flying out of the way. Hermione spun, trying to find Harry in the mess of flashing spells and duelling bodies. To her right, Sirius and Dolohov were dueling, their wands flashing like swords, sparks flying from their wand tips - out of nowhere, she saw Harry spring up and stun Dolohov just as the Death Eater raised his own wand. Hermione ducked a wayward orange curse, spinning to see Kinglsey’s horrified expression fix on someone just over her shoulder. She ducked and weaved her way back over to the stone dais. Something exploded near her foot as she clambered back onto the platform, sharp shards of grey stone tearing through the exposed flesh of her lower leg.  

From her vantage point, Hermione saw Tonks fall from halfway up the stone steps across the room, her limp form toppling from stone seat to stone seat, and Bellatrix, triumphant, running back toward the fray. Their eyes met, and Hermione, trembling, took a step back. 

And then Sirius was there, again, yelling something indistinguishable to Harry, and dashing to meet Bellatrix. 

Hermione crouched behind the archway to shield herself as Harry fought his way to the dais. 

“Hermione!” She could just hear him above the roar of battle, and spun out from where she was shielded to help him up. 

And then Sirius and Bellatrix erupted once more from the fray, duelling viciously. Bellatrix was backing towards where Harry was still trying to clamber up onto the dais with the prophecy balanced in one hand, his wand in the other.  

“Come on!” said Hermione desperately, hauling at Harry’s robes to pull him up. “Please hurry, Harry —”

She gave another stupendous heave and Harry’s robes tore all along the left seam — the small spun-glass ball toppled from his hand. Time seemed to slow as both Hermione and Harry reached to catch it, but too late - the orb smashed on the step beneath them. As both of them stared at the place where it had broken, appalled at what had happened, a pearly-white figure with hugely magnified eyes rose into the air. 

Hermione acted without thinking. She snatched Harry’s wand from his hand as the rest of the world fell away. 

“Muffliato!” Harry’s face was white as he stared at her, and then at the ghostly figure.

“Sonorous!” Hermione flicked Harry’s wand at the broken pieces of the prophecy and they both took a step back as the woman’s voice rose up above the noise of the battle raging around them. 

“ - vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies …"

Harry and Hermione stared at each other as the figure stopped speaking and dissolved into nothingness.

“Harry,” Hermione gasped, “that was about you. Neither can live - ” He looked at her, expression grim. 

“Either must die at the hand of the other.” He said, “this is what Dumbledore didn’t want me to know.” 

She was helpless. And around them, spells flickered and burst like explosions in the darkness of the Department of Mysteries.  She could only watch as the Order members struggled in the fight below, only grasp Harry’s arm as his knees weakened and collapsed as he fell to the ground, clutching his scar. 

“He’s here,” Hermione leant down at Harry’s groan.   
“Harry, we need to move!” She tugged desperately at his arm again and he yelled in pain, still unable to meet her eyes. “Oh God, Hermione - he’s coming- ”

A high, cold voice empty of any human kindness cut through the cold air of the chamber. “Enough,” Spoke Lord Voldemort, and there he stood, framed in the doorway directly across from them; his wand aloft; his face white and impassive. 

Hermione felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of her body — this was the end. 

Voldemort sped down the steps towards Harry and Hermione, who were rooted to the spot at the foot of the veiled archway. He was already at the foot of the steps when the Order members nearest realized he was there. There were yells; Kingsley Shacklebolt charged him, roaring as he sprinted across the stone steps, wand held aloft. Voldemort’s spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line — throwing him into the stone steps opposite with a sickening _crack._

Only one couple were still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Hermione ducked a bolt of red light Sirius had failed to block, and Bellatrix cackled madly. 

“Come on, you can do better than that!” Sirius yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.

The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest.

The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.

Hermione was vaguely aware of Harry screaming. It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. . . .

And from such a close distance, Hermione saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on Sirius’ wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place.

She heard Bellatrix Lestrange’s triumphant scream, and knew, even if Harry did not, that Sirius would not reappear from the other side. 

Hermione looked out from the dais, gripping Harry’s arm tightly even as he surged forward to follow Sirius through the veil. 

“Enough,” spoke Lord Voldemort again. And Hermione paused. And Harry paused. Then suddenly, inexplicably, and as though activated by Sirius’ fall, the archway ignited. The veil billowed with an impossible wind, illuminated by the same green glittering light Hermione had touched in the time room. It was coming from her - the magic winding its way back through her veins and forming tight bonds between her and the material of the veil. She stared down at her hands, reminded of a great loom by the threads of time and magic pulling her towards the archway, and then back out at the shocked crowd below her. Voldemort’s eyes were blood red and his face was twisted into a feral scream she couldn’t hear. 

The world tilted around her and she fell. 

 


End file.
